DON'T Shut Your Mouth

Over the years I've come up with a bunch of silly New Year's Resolutions like drink more water or hang up my coat. Well, this year, I've just got one: Don't stay silent.

Now you might think, "Gee, Jen, I didn't know that you stayed silent on much. You're kind of a ranter and you tend to yell a lot. Are there really things you're staying silent on?"

YES. There are. For instance, when I see someone in public behaving badly, I tend to steer myself away from them, I don't want to get involved, I'm exhausted. Over the years I've begun to feel worn down. I feel like, "What's the point? I'm never going to change anything." Well, it's time to make a scene. It can make a difference. There is a point. It's time to call out bad behavior when I see it. Loudly and clearly. When I witness even the smallest acts of racism or sexism or homophobia or xenophobia or whatever, I will no longer shrug it off and mutter, "Asshole" under my breath and hope that someone else educates them. Instead, I will speak up and I will say, "Hey, that's wrong and here's why."

And when I see blatant racism like this piece of shit JC Penney shopper who ranted like a maniac, I won't stand there silently. I won't listen to an angry, scared old woman yell at Latina shoppers, "Go back to where you came from" and "I bet you're on welfare!" and then ultimately bring it all back to Donald Trump, because of course she did. I will sing Kumbaya and I will ask, "What would Jesus do right now? I'm pretty sure not tell someone to go back to where they came from or speculate how their purchases are being made. Or brag that he voted for a pussy-grabber." I will teach her some facts. Like the United States actually has no official language. And, unless you're a Native American, you're the descendant of immigrants who once came here and probably didn't fit in real well at first. 

How I Stay Stress-Free During the Holidays

Growing up, my mom made Christmas perfect in every way. We had multiple trees decorated with their own themes, Christmas dishes that we ate every single meal on (including snacks), constant roaring fires, delicious smells wafting through the house from her endless baking, and Christmas music blaring from every speaker we owned. My mom made it looks easy. She took her Christmasing very seriously--and still does today. If you don't believe me, check out the video I made that showcases just the decorations in the guest bathroom.

As a child I took it for granted that everyone had a mom that could trim a tree, bake fudge, and wrap a billion gifts in an afternoon with a smile on her face. I thought all moms could do that. Looking back now I'm trying to see if my mom ever uttered cries for help. I don't think she did. I think she is a rare beast who really enjoys all of that stuff.

When Your Kid is More Magical Than You

If you've read Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat then you know that I accidentally ruined Santa for Gomer a few years ago when he was in fourth grade. It's a long story and you should probably read it, but basically it boils down to I thought he knew, but he didn't know and I blew it.

Cut to now where Adolpha is in fourth grade and showing some definite signs that she no longer believes. HOWEVER, since this is the last child I have to screw up, I refuse to be the one who says, "Santa isn't real." If she's thirty years old and she comes to my house on Christmas Eve hoping for a Dustbuster, I'll give her one. Y'know?

She's been throwing me some serious signs this year that she doesn't believe or that I'm at least being tested. For instance, she refuses to tell me what she's asked Santa for.

My Mom's Christmas Explosion: A Video

OK, so if you've read Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat, then you know that my mom has a teeny tiny problem with Christmas. She LOOOOOOVES it too much. I've written a lot about her 12 trees, hundreds of Santas, and countless snowmen, but I was getting the impression that a few of you didn't believe me. So, last night I was over at her house (baking Christmas cookies, of course) and I asked her if I could film some of her house for a video. At first she said, "No, it's a mess!" And then she said, "OK, but be sure to apologize for the mess." Fine. Whatever. I apologize.

I give to you, the video of my mom's Christmas Explosion:

If the video doesn't work here, try this link.

2016 Holiday Gift Guide

This week the holiday shopping season begins. May the odds be ever in your favor! If you're like me, you hate to wear pants or see people so don't worry. Everything I've chosen for my 2016 gift guide is available online. You can get everything you need without leaving the house. You're welcome.

Usually I start with the kids, but this year I'm starting with ME! What do I want for Christmas? I really don't have a list of many things I want, so instead, I made a list of all of my favorite things. Yeah, I'm like Oprah, but poorer and less famous and I won't give any of this stuff to you.

Yummie Leggings. If you follow my personal account on Facebook, then you know that leggings were a hot topic for me this fall. Now that I'm writing more and speaking in public more, I actually need some clothes to wear outside of my office. I still want something casual and comfy, though, and that's where leggings come in. I finally found some wide-calf boots that I love and I bought a bazillion pairs and decided to live in nothing but leggings and boots this fall and winter. I wanted a pair of leggings that were thicker than tights, that sucked everything in and held it tight while still allowing me to breathe and move about. This brand does all of that. 

My Faith in Humanity is Restored!

I don't know about you, but the last month or so has been rough. Like, really rough. Like, so rough that I'm not sleeping well, I'm worried all the time, and I can't seem to get happy. Every time I turn on the TV or open my laptop or phone there is more bad news. It can be soul-crushing.

I know I'm not the only one feeling this way and that's why I wanted to write this and share with you the most amazing stories from the last week or so that have restored my faith in humanity.

OK, so I'll start at the beginning.

Adolpha went away for the weekend with my mom and dad and she took a bunch of stuffed animals with her. I don't normally let so many of her furry friends go out the door, but frankly, I was exhausted (see the first paragraph re: stressed out) and I didn't feel like arguing with her. So, off they went. When she returned on Sunday she was frantic because one of her animals was missing. A very small turtle named Shelly. We looked through all her bags and couldn't find Shelly. We called my parents hoping that Shelly had stowed away in their suitcase, but no luck. I called the hotel and Shelly had not been turned in. We had a long talk about how this is what happens when you don't keep track of your important things, blah blah blah. Sure, there were some tears, but nothing major and I thought we were all done.

Gabrielle What's Her Name

I know Gabrielle's real name, but on the advice of legal counsel I'll go ahead and leave out her last name on this post.

I don't know Gabrielle personally, but I sure feel like I do.  Gabrielle used to own the house I currently live in.

Seven years ago, the Hubs and I bought this house when it was a foreclosure.  This was before the big foreclosure boom that's been going on for years now and it was sort of rare to find a foreclosure in those days.

When we bought the house I didn't know anyone who lived in a foreclosure and I felt a little bad capitalizing on someone else's downturn.

I felt like maybe the house was "sad."  (No, actually I was worried the house might be possessed a la Amityville Horror.)  I had nightmares for the first couple of weeks we lived here.  Most of the time I had nightmares about Gabrielle and her family.